The Time Traveler's Daughter
by Elaine Moss
Summary: My name is Alba DeTamble. I am in love. The problem is, he doesn't know it yet.


October 13, 2007 Alba is 16, Matthew is 5

ALBA: I am lost. I shiver in the cold, wondering how far I ma away from town and where I can find a house to steal some clothes before I die of hypothermia. I have found an old robe lying on the ground in a bag where someone no doubt dropped it while playing dress up, and I wrap it around my thin figure. It doesn't keep out the cold, but at least I'm not naked. The sun is just rising, but I can barely see it through the trees. I guess I am in a forest of some sort, and I walk ahead, hoping for some human interaction. I am cold and alone and I need food. Fast.

I don't know what the date is. There is no implication as to what decade I'm in, so I wing it. The area which I am in is heavily wooded, plus it's freezing cold. I can only guess it is morning and I'm somewhere north. Or very south.

There is a break in the trees, and I spot a house up ahead. I bite my bottom lip to keep myself form screaming. I start to sprint through the clearing when I hear a voice. And I freeze.

There is a small boy standing in the clearing. He is around five years old, and he is clutching a blanket in his fat little fist. He stares at me in all my half naked glory, and I realize my robe has fallen open a bit. My bare leg sticks out, the slit carefully ending near my upper thigh. I gasp and pull it over my bare skin, but the boy does nothing. He simply stares at me and says nothing. I look at him closely. His blonde hair is disheveled, his footsie pajamas are dotted with sailboats and ducks. How adorable.

The boy is still looking at me with a blank expression, so I decide to introduce myself. Not exactly how I want to meet someone, but it will just have to do. "Hello," I say, my voice shaky and cracked, "My name is Alba. What is your name?" He doesn't answer me, so I wait a minute. His eyes dart form me to the house. I shake my head and say, "No, no, no! You can't tell anyone I'm here, okay?" He looks back to me and nods.

"Now, tell me your name," I ask, and he answers me quietly. "Matthew," he says, his voice quivering, "How come you don't remember? I told you last time. You forget a lot."

"Last time?" I ask, "I've never been here before." I give him a puzzled look. Giving up, I sigh and say, "Look, I lost my clothes and I'm really cold. Do you think you could get some for me, sweetie?" I call him sweetie so he won't think I'm going to kidnap him or anything. He nods and toddles off to the house. I sigh and collapse on the ground. The robe isn't holding up too well, so I wrap my arms around myself to keep the only piece of clothing I have form falling apart. I see the boy running back, tripping lightly in his pj's. I almost laugh, but thank him for the clothes. He leaves them by me and runs to a safe distance. I am a vicious tiger in his eyes, waiting to jump at any moment. I pull the dress over my feet, keeping the robe over my body. Once I get it on, I let the tattered piece of silk fall to the ground in a heap. I am decent enough, even though I am going commando and the dress is two sizes too big.

"How I know s'pose to believe you?" he asks boldly, "How I know you ain't just someone who look like Alba?" He's a smart cookie, I'll give him that. He stands in front of me and crosses his arms over his chest. He looks, for a brief moment, a lot older than five. He is in command. I don't know why he thinks I'm not Alba, or why he thinks he knows me.

"Of course I'm Alba," I reply, wondering what he is talking about and how he knows who I am, "How do you know who I am? I have never met you before?" I think about ti for a second more. The robe was left in the woods for someone. It couldn't have simply been abandoned by it's owner, and I doubted that he would use it for dress up. It dawns on me and I turn my attention back to Matthew.

"I've been here before, huh?" I aks him, and he nods with a smile.

"You came here before, and you needed clothes. I left the robe for you so you wouldn't be cold or nothing and I even brought some food, but I guess the crows ate it 'cause I didn't put it in a box. Sorry." He scrutinizes my looks and says, "You look pretty. When you came last, you was older and had a gray hair. I pulled it out for you." He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a plastic baggy. Inside it holds a long thin hair. It is silvery white. He smiles when I take it form his chubby hand, and watches me hold it up to the light. How did I geta gray hair? Was I that old?

"You weren't so happy about neither," he continued, "You was really unhappy and said you was getting old. You look kinda the same, but you had a gray hair and you were taller too but I s'pose everybody gets taller when their older." I smile at him, my eyes brimming with tears. He is so adorable, but his face falls and he frowns at me. I guess I look silly crying in front of him. "You cried then too, but I think it was 'cause of the gray hair."

I laugh a bit and he sits beside me. He is a small boy. He hugs me, his arms squeeze my shoulders, and I feel warmth. Not from the sun, but form him. Whoever this little Matthew is, he knows me and loves me, somewhat. He lets me go and I wipe the tears from my eyes.

The nausea washes over me, and he sees my face distort in pain. He whispers," Are you goin' now?" I nod and he hugs me again, and I realize now he is crying. I hug him until I feel myself leave, and I know he is sitting in the meadow, his arms full of the dress. But I am not there, for I am hurdling through time for my own place in time. I can still small the grass on my skin when I materialize into the present.

I am in the present, laying on my back on my bedroom floor. I grab the clothes that fell in a heap where I last left them and clothe myself. I hear mom singing downstairs. It is morning here as well, but ti isn't cold, and I can smell toast burning. Even as I later munch on my eggs and blackened bread does it not dawn on me that Matthew is to be my boyfriend, and later my husband.


End file.
